


Master Thief

by RadiantSeraphina (Lady_Arrowwood)



Category: Hoshi no Kaabii | Kirby: Right Back at Ya!, Kirby (Video Games), Kirby - All Media Types
Genre: Adopted Children, Alternate Universe - Thieves, Comedy, Crossover, Gen, Mentors
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:33:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21566137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Arrowwood/pseuds/RadiantSeraphina
Summary: As the leader of the Squeak Squad, Daroach doesn't mind a bit of chaos; it keeps things interesting. But he never anticipated this. After his beloved airship crashes to Dreamland, Daroach finds himself matching wits with a king who has a terrible sense of aesthetics, a knight determined to make Daroach accept his grand destiny as a Star Warrior, and a failed ninja student who insists on being a thieving protege.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 46





	Master Thief

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SociallyUnacceptableOrb](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SociallyUnacceptableOrb/gifts).



> I promised this ages ago, and it seemed like a good way to ease myself back into fanfic writing.

In Dreamland, autumn arrived with cool, crisp winds and the misting of rains. The moon, full and luminous, rested in the sky, a spot of orange in the sea of star-studded black. It was a peaceful night, that was—of course—except for the massive air ship that careened from the sky and crashed into the middle of Dreamland’s forests, leveling several trees and frightening away most of the local wildlife.

For a moment, silence settled over the forests. A few, frail leaves drifted down and fell to the ground. With a metallic clang, the airship’s door opened, and a mouse’s head peeked out. One paw gripped his cane-like weapon. His gold eyes darted about the woods, and seeing nothing amiss, he swept out. His crew crowded around him: clever and eccentric Doc, strong and dependable Storo, and swift, sharp-tongued Spinni.

The Squeak Squad slowly made their way around the ship. Doc carried a small electronic device with him, and ever so often, he’d wave it, casting transparent images in the air before him. Daroach grimaced as he rounded the airship and spotted the massive dent in the ship’s silvery hull.

“According to my calculations, the damage is mostly cosmetic,” Doc said.

Blue glowing lines appeared in the air, tracing out the lines of the ship. After a few seconds, one section flickered bright red.

“I know I’m not the best with technology,” Spinni said, “But I’m pretty sure glowing, red lights aren’t a good sign.”

There was a beat of silence. Daroach hovered over Doc’s shoulder. “It looks like something overwhelmed the circuitry.”

“Agreed,” Doc replied, moving his paw across the glowing lines and shifting the view, “But it looks fine now. It must be something in the atmosphere that we hadn’t anticipated. Perhaps, some sort of electrical interference fried or temporarily overloaded our systems. There were unusual readings as we neared this planet.”

“Pop Star, right?” Storo asked.

“Correct,” Doc said, flipping the display once more. The diagram shifted to reveal a star-shaped planet surrounded by two moons and thin, gossamer-like rings. “It’s a small planet.”

“Any known affiliations?” Daroach asked.

They hadn’t even planned on stopping by this particular planet.

Doc hummed and flipped through several screens, his eyes scanning through rows of text in four different languages. “No,” Doc said. “No history of alliances with the GSA, no connections to the Intergalactic Alliance. Not even any regularly established off-planet trade routes that I can find. That doesn’t mean there _isn’t_ any interstellar trade, of course. We wouldn’t be able to detect personal transporter devices, but there’s nothing dramatic. Three automatic distress signals triggered from an unexpected impact.”

“From trade vessels?” Daroach asked.

“Personal vehicles,” Doc replied.

“Maybe they crashed here, too?” Storo suggested.

“Potentially. It does look as if they arrived in a similar area.” Doc paused and flipped through a few more screens. “There is a record from Planet Pipi. A royal visitation, as best as I can tell.”

“Forging an alliance, perhaps?” Daroach asked, his whiskers twitching as he thought. “Any idea what sort of civilization might be here?”

“We appear to be within the boundaries of a kingdom called Dreamland. It must be a quiet, peaceful place to have so little information readily available about it,” Doc mused.

“Boring, you mean,” Spinni muttered.

Daroach smirked. “We can change that,” he said.

“For sure, Boss,” Storo said.

“Are they friendly?” Daroach asked.

“I haven’t the faintest idea,” Doc said. “There are no logs or public histories on the area.”

Spinni whistled. “Well, no news is good news, right?”

“Or very bad news,” Daroach said.

“Maybe they’re all cannibals, and that’s why they have no alliances or communications. They eat all the survivors,” Spinni said.

“They wouldn’t bother with you,” Storo said, looking uncomfortable. “You’re so little. But I—”

“Don’t worry. I know how to handle cannibals,” Daroach said, leaving his crew to wonder exactly how. “How bad is the damage, Doc?”

“Not terrible,” Doc replied. “It shouldn’t be difficult to fix. A little rewiring, and I should be able to put our systems back online. I don’t think we’ll even need to scavenge for materials.”

Daroach nodded. “See what you can do to fix it,” he said. “Storo, he might need you to lift some of the panels.”

“Sure thing, Boss,” Storo said.

Doc and Storo retreated into the ship. Daroach climbed atop the airship, vying for a better vantage point of the woods. It had been a long time since he’d been in a forest. The night wind whipped through Daroach’s cape, lifting and snapping the fabric. Daroach kept one paw on the brim of his hat to prevent it from being swept away, as he breathed in the leaf-litter and freshly rained on grass. The scent of the forest conjured up memories, little ghosts brought forth from the past. He remembered his first steps into Green Grounds, where everything smelled like flora and nature and _life_. And if Daroach dared think back a little further, he’d remember—

Spinni sneezed, breaking Daroach from his thoughts.

“Are you all right?” Daroach asked.

“It’s just a little cold, Boss,” Spinni replied, sniffling.

“Still, you probably ought to be inside. Thievery is a hard business, even harder if you’re ill. Keep watch from inside. I’m going to scout the land a bit. Since we’re stranded here for now, we might as well see if we can bring in something,” Daroach said.

“Sure thing, Boss!” Spinni replied, his voice thick with cold.

Daroach nodded and leaped to the ground, his cape billowing around him in a delightfully flamboyant way. He didn’t bother to wait and see if his orders were followed, for he had faith they would be. Instead, he walked into the forests, crushing brittle leaves beneath his paws. “Some night I’m having,” Daroach muttered. “First, my ship crashes. Now, a member of my crew is sick! What next?”

At least, they were temporary circumstances, Daroach reasoned. The ship could be repaired, and Spinni could work through his illness.

Ahead, there was a place where the trees grew thinner. Daroach scrambled onto a low-hanging tree branch and after finding his balance, drifted out slowly onto it. He put one paw to the brim of his hat and leaned forward, narrowing his eyes as he peered through the thick canopy of leaves. There was a castle in the distance, although _castle_ seemed like too kind of a word. Daroach sniffed at the beige abomination with its red-capped towers. What an appalling lack of aesthetics! What an offensively dull color scheme! And the entire structure looked too small, as if a too-large building had been constructed in too tiny of a space.

Admittedly, Daroach had seen some of the most magnificent castles and palatial residences in the world, but it still seemed unthinkable that _any_ architect had come up with _this_ travesty. And worse! The liege of this land had thought a castle so hideous was worth living in. Daroach shook his head. Maybe, he thought, the present monarch _realized_ they were living in an architectural nightmare, and they were just too fiscally responsible to have the structure replaced with something that didn’t make casual observers want to gauge out their own eyes with a rusty fork.

The thief drifted closer, vying for a better look. Along the battlements, he saw the guards—waddle dees, he was nearly certain—all armed with spears. Daroach’s sharp eyes looked about for any additional defenses, but if there were any, he couldn’t see them. There were walls, but they didn’t look terribly impressive. And he could easily scale them.

Daroach trailed a paw over the smooth surface of the Triple-Star and then, idly twirled the weapon between his claws. Hideous or not, it was a well-known fact that castles had treasures, and Daroach _did_ like treasure.


End file.
